Perfect
by Write-To-You
Summary: Felicity has a klutzy day and starts to wonder why Oliver picked her for his girlfriend. Oliver, however, quickly shoots those thoughts down. (posted for my 2 Year Anniversary!)


**Author's Note: I don't know how I haven't posted this one before now! Let's have some Olicity and take it back to one of the first ships I ever wrote :D**

Felicity was having a klutzy day.

She and Oliver were going to have one of their rare, carefree, no Arrow or other work days, and were going to a baseball game. In the time that the game was over, Felicity had managed to almost banged the car into a lamp post when parking, dropped her hotdog on her lap, and nearly spill her soda all over herself (it was only thanks to Oliver that her 3rd favorite skirt wasn't ruined).

Still, they were having fun. Neither of them knew very much about baseball, so they spent their time making fun of the player's names and trying to mimic their throwing styles, much to the annoyance of the die hard fans around them.

The game had ended, one of the teams (Felicity couldn't even figure out which one) had won, and they were standing up to leave during the ending ceremonies, trying to avoid traffic on the way out.

That's when Felicity tripped on the cardboard her hotdog had been in. She felt Oliver's finger brush against her sleeve, reaching out and missing by millimeters, before she was tumbling head first down the rows of metal bleachers surrounding the playing area. She rolled and bounced, probably squishing a few people on her way down, before coming to a painful heap at the edge of the field.

Felicity's senses came back to her sooner that she would have liked. The first thing she noticed that it was completely silent. The ending ceremonies had stopped, there was no chatter between other watchers, nothing.

"Felicity!" Oliver's frantic cry rang out in the quiet. _Great_. Felicity thought. _Now they all know my name, too_. Oliver knelt beside her, rolling her over. "Are you ok? Did you break anything? Felicity, speak to me, please."

Felicity, opening her eyes and sitting up, was about to say she was fine, when one of the cheerleaders giggled. Felicity's head shot over. The cheerleader was everything that Felicity had wanted to be in high school; perfect features, a perfect body, perfect make-up. That made it too much.

Leaping to her feet, tears starting to roll down her burning cheeks, Felicity ran out of the stadium, ignoring Oliver yelling for her to wait. She threw herself in the car, slammed the door, and buried her face in her hands, sobbing miserably.

It was a little bit until Oliver joined her. He was steaming mad, and took a minute to control himself a bit so that he wouldn't break the car. "Felicity? Are you ok?"

"No!" Felicity cried. "I just fell _headfirst_ down _bleachers_ with an _entire stadium of people watching me_! Is that something that someone would be ok after?! And then that stupid, perfect, cheerleader had to go and laugh. I don't see why you bother with me, anyway, being such and idiotic klutz, who goes and ruins perfect outings, and embarrasses you in front of everyone!"

Oliver was quiet for a moment, and Felicity looked up at him, slightly scared that she had said something wrong. He smiled at her, though. "There's a short answer, and there's a longer one. Which do you want?"

"Both." Felicity said, with a mix between a laugh and a sob.

"The short one is that I love you, and nothing you do, or anyone else does, is going to change that. The longer answer is this: You are beautiful. You are smart. You are clever, and funny, and brave and have so much heart and love. More than that cheerleader will _ever_ have. You can deal with me and my mood swings and my inability to let anyone in, and that means more to me then you can ever know. It all comes back to this, though. I love you. And my love for you makes you seem perfect."

They never mentioned that day again, but they both remembered it for the rest of their lives.

 **Author's Note: Ahhh, another old one! I haven't written an Olicity drabble in AGES.**


End file.
